


Many Happy Returns

by AnnetheCatDetective



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 00:06:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16377644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: Ian gets more than he expected from Alan and Ellie.





	Many Happy Returns

Ian isn’t surprised to find the driveway empty, when he pulls up-- it’s what he expects during the week, he’d have been surprised to see anything else. He’ll get a call from the dig site, probably. He does expect that-- they’ll call him, and perhaps they’ll promise something special for the weekend. He wouldn’t be surprised by that, but then, they usually promise something special for the weekend, since weekends is all he gets, unless he drives out to the dig site. And he has to make his schedule work for that…

 

They’ve talked about teaching positions, when this dig ends. It’s another couple of years before it will… They talk about it like there’s no question of Ian’s being there in a couple years. He doesn’t know what to do with that.

 

Of course he likes the idea. He’s not sure what he’d do without them now… he’s not sure how he made it as far as he did without them, but then, the months of recovery between when they left him in the hospital with a phone number he should call, and his showing up in Montana to call it with the news that he was available and in town, it’s all a little hazy. The series of decisions he had to have made to get him there are all very hazy. He must have been mad to uproot his life, but then… by the time he’d come out to Montana, he’d had very little life left to uproot. Ex wives who thought he was unstable, lecture tours and speaking engagements cancelling, the fallout of going back on his NDA… but there was a university in Montana that was willing to hire him to teach applied mathematics, probability, chaos theory… 

 

He used to get paid for a single engagement what he now makes in three months, but he actually gets to form relationships with his students, gets to know that they’re absorbing the material instead of showing up to a lecture to say they did, and not getting half of what he says. And, of course, he gets to live in Alan and Ellie’s house, to sleep in the center of a great big comfortable bed-- though it’s better, on weekends, when they come home to it-- to cook in a nice kitchen, to do his work with his feet up on the couch. He keeps the place spotless, which he never really bothered with in the crappy apartment they’d been so quick to move him out of.

 

So weekends are special, whether or not there’s an occasion. Alan and Ellie have each other all week, on weekends, they make him the center of things. True, they all focus on pleasing each other pretty equally when it comes to going to bed, but Ian gets to be in the middle more often than not, gets cuddled and kissed and told he’s been missed… He makes them nice dinners, sets up a week’s worth of lunches to pack off to the dig site for them both. He focuses all his attention on them in return.

 

He parks in the driveway. The garage is full of boxes, mostly seasonal crap and all the things Alan had put out of sight. He’s not sure how much he put in storage when he first came home, and how much he put away when Ian started staying with them… he’s never quite worked up the nerve to ask. He’s never worked up the nerve to clean out the garage, either. He probably shouldn’t try moving any heavy boxes, really. He imagines the two of them finding him buried under boxes of fossils after three days whenever he thinks about trying to get it organized. 

 

When he lets himself in, the lights are on, the air smells  _ good _ , the kitchen table is set… 

 

“Where’s your car?” Ian blinks, looking between Ellie and Alan. “Did you two cook?”

 

“Alan cleared out some space in the garage. We wanted to be able to surprise you.” Ellie smiles, moving to kiss Ian’s cheek. Alan, following suit, getting the left while she has the right, and two pairs of arms winding around him. He gets an arm around each of them, kisses them both.

 

“Don’t worry, she picked dinner up while I was making room.” Alan adds. “I only make two things in a kitchen, neither of them seemed really… special.”

 

“Special?”

 

“Like we wouldn’t remember.” Ellie nudges at him. “After you brought cake out to each of us at the dig site on our birthdays.”

 

“It’ll keep warm if you want to get you shoes off, get comfortable first…” Alan offers, tucks himself in against Ian’s neck a moment. “Go on… hang up your coat and change into your slippers at least, before I start to feel underdressed.”

 

He chuckles softly, giving them each another kiss before disengaging. They’ve had time to shower since leaving the dig site, to change into things he’s laundered this week. Alan may joke about being underdressed, but he’s wearing one of his nicer shirts. Ellie’s put on a sundress. They’ve dressed up for him. 

 

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

 

“Of course we had to.” Alan says, the same way he’d said of course they had to ask him to stay the night, that first time. Of course they had to offer him a place with them, of course they had to be considerate of him, of course, of course, of course. 

 

“I mean, I’ve never made a big deal about it.”

 

“Because you don’t  _ like _ to make a big deal about it, or because you don’t want people to disappoint you?” Ellie asks pointedly. “Because you never told us you didn’t  _ like _ to have a big deal made. In fact, you kind of like having a big deal made of you in general.”

 

“Do I?”

 

“Dressing like a rock star.” Alan says. “And you always have to be the center of attention…”

 

He snags Ian’s hand, softening the accusation with a kiss to his palm. 

 

“Okay, I like a little bit of a deal made now and then… Thank you. I’ll go and make myself a little more casual, then, and let you, uh… shower me in attention.”

 

“Hurry back.” Ellie says, gravitates to lean up against Alan’s side when Ian parts from them. The sweetest little picture, the two of them together in the warm glow of the dining room, three places set, waiting for him. Taking extra time away from the site, to be free to wait for him. For this.

 

He hurries-- ditches his jacket, changes from the waist down, pajama pants and slippers. There was a time when he didn’t bother changing until he was ready to fall into bed, and that might be well into the night, when he didn’t think about the way any given pair of pants felt. They stopped feeling like anything in particular after a while, unless there was something wrong with them. 

 

Some days are like that. And some pairs of pants more than others. But then there are the times everything feels tight and painful where the scar tissue is, and ordinary fabrics feel rougher and heavier, just because his nerves are on fire, and he can handle it during the course of a workday, it’s not unbearable just because he’s more sensitive sometimes. It’s a mild relief to go from work pants to silk pajamas, and he has to allow himself that. 

 

When he looked at it as a thing he lost, the ability to not think about what he was wearing for hours, it was harder. He tries to look at it as a luxury he can give himself. Why shouldn’t he? He owns silk pajamas, why wouldn’t he change into them as soon as he got home, if he wasn’t planning on going back out, or receiving company? He can work just as easily in silk pajamas as in slacks, when it comes to grading papers or playing with equations, working on the next book-- if there will be a next book, but that’s not worth worrying about now, either. There’s no earthly reason not to be decadently comfortable as he can be while he works at home. Looking at it as a little gift he can give himself helps. 

 

Besides which, Alan’s hand goes right to him whenever he’s wearing those pajamas… 

 

He does it with Ellie, too, though she’s not a silk pajamas every night kind of gal. Sometimes, on weekends, and then Alan is left grabbing for both of them, with that  _ look _ , and Ian wonders what it would be like to get Alan into something silky himself. He’d probably like it. Silk boxers, at least, he likes Ian in those, too. 

 

As expected, the moment he rejoins them by the table, Alan’s hand is sliding up his thigh and back towards his ass, and he lets himself be dragged in for one of those kisses, those Alan Grant Specials, the ones that leave him feeling just a little dizzy and weak in the knees-- and it doesn’t hurt that Ellie is pressed right up against his back, her arms sliding around him, palms spread over his chest. The both of them so warm… like they channel all that sun they soak up at the dig site into keeping Ian warm when they see him. 

 

“Pasta primavera and that crusted cod you like.” She tugs him away from Alan at last, with a kiss to the back of his neck before directing him to his chair. “You drinking tonight?”

 

He reaches up to touch her cheek before she can make for the kitchen, shaking his head. “Pills to take tonight. You go ahead, I wouldn’t mind a taste.”

 

“Sure.” She drags her fingers through his hair, smile indulgent. Alan snags her, hand at her waist, taking her back towards the kitchen, and between the two of them, they bring in the food, the pitcher of ice water, the bottle of wine, a can of Dr Pepper-- from which Alan pours a third into Ian’s wine glass. 

 

“This is it. The only vice I’m left with.” He clicks his tongue sadly, gives a somewhat over-dramatic look and a shake of the head as he lifts his glass.

 

“Really?” Alan raises his eyebrows. “And what would you call last weekend?”

 

“Oh, honey… you are a pleasure, but never a vice. I’m a, I’m a downright virtuous man when I’m between you two. You burn what’s wrong right out of me.”

 

“You don’t need  _ me-- _ or anyone else-- to be virtuous.” He chuckles, leaning in to kiss the end of Ian’s nose. “I think ‘virtuous’ just about sums you up. It was maybe the second or third thing I noticed about you.”

 

“What was the first? Was it the leather jacket? The great hair? What was the second?”

 

“Your laugh.”

 

“See, see, now I know you’re teasing me. But I’m serious, I’m curious now, when did you, uh, start noticing me? Here I was, you know, thinking it was my moment of heroism all along, but you noticed maybe two whole things about me before I ever displayed my virtuosity, so… so color me intrigued, I’d just like to know how I first impressed you.”

 

“Alan noticed you right away.” Ellie leans in, serving them from the takeout containers while Alan pours a glass of wine that the three of them will probably end up splitting.

 

“Alan ‘I only have eyes for dinosaurs’ Grant noticed me right away?”

 

“Well.” Alan shrugs. “There were no dinosaurs on the helicopter.”

 

“Except for John.” Ian says, and Ellie whispers at him to behave, but she’s laughing when she does it. He sees the way Alan’s lips just barely quirk and his chin dips briefly towards his chest. Which is about as good as a laugh out of anybody else. “No, no, I, uh, shouldn’t make fun, I’m another year closer myself…”

 

“Well that’s the good thing about dating paleontologists. The older you get, the more interested we’ll be.” 

 

He laughs, leaning after her as she takes her seat. “That count for paleobotanists, too? Or do you just get more interested if I become a vegetable?”

 

“I don’t know how much more interested in you I could get.” She gestures to his plate. “Did we guess right on dinner?”

 

“I was just going to order pizza…”

 

“Oh, we should have done that.” Alan frowns slightly.

 

“No, no-- this is better.” Ian promises. “I was just never going to take myself out to get it. It’s perfect, really. You two are perfect.”

 

“Aw… sweetie.” Ellie beams at him. Alan’s hand rests on his thigh a moment, careful and steady and warm until it withdraws. 

 

Dinner is fantastic, and a third of a glass of wine is enough that he feels he’s gotten to enjoy it, while not being enough to interact with his pills when he takes them. It’s enough, to feel like they’re celebrating, although sharing a glass of wine with dinner is a fairly regular occurrence on weekends. Sometimes while they eat, sometimes while he cooks, passing it from hand to hand as he asks for a little help with this or that, if he has them hanging out in the kitchen with him… He likes to cook for them, but it is nice, cooking together… It was nice, teaching them a few things, the excuse to press up close against each of them in turn... the laughter and the easy touches, the pleasure on Alan’s face when Ellie had praised the pancakes he’d made, and her own pride in herself at mastering something she’d never bothered picking up before but enjoyed learning to do now… and both of them, always, thanking him. Winding arms around his neck and his waist and sharing him for kisses, leaning up against him from both sides in just the right measure to keep him upright, the praise for his domestic talents.

 

He did this, for his kids. For his exes, too. One of the things he got right, he did this. He didn’t clean so much before, but living alone with things clean and things not clean, he’s learned he’s happier when they’re clean. And one thing he can say for having his life destroyed-- doing most of the destroying himself-- it means when he put it back together, he got to decide what to put back in it. A better work-life balance than he used to have. Which he hated like hell at first, when not working constantly felt like a weakness, felt like he was giving in somehow, that he was letting the leg win. But the leg is a part of him, a part that he needs to be gentler with than the rest of him. It’s not his enemy, it’s his  _ body _ .

 

He likes being domestic, for Ellie, for Alan. Likes knowing he’s keeping their home  _ nice _ when they’re off at the dig site. He still has plenty of time for his work, especially considering the nature of his work now is… well. It ain’t what it used to be. For better or for worse.

 

If he added up everything that’s true about his life before and after that island, the obvious conclusion is that the after is worse. The damage to his body is permanent. The damage to his career might be. The damage to his relationships with his exes and what that by extension means for his relationships with his kids is not negligible. 

 

He’s happier.

 

With all that, with all the trouble he has sleeping, with all the bitterness he sometimes still feels about what he’s lost and how fundamentally unfair so much of that is, he’s learning to be happier now. He’s learning to re-prioritize, and how to be forgiving with himself when his new normal falls short of his old standards-- standards he didn’t meet when he was able-bodied, severely less traumatized, and at the top of everyone’s list. He’s working on it, anyway, he’s learning to be more present for the good things in his life, and he has a couple very good things going for him, and maybe it’s not enough to equal what he’s lost, but there’s something to be said for attitude. It’s not like he was happy when he was healthy and successful, after all. He was anxious all the time even then, had crappy relationships with exes, wasn’t as present as he wanted to be in his kids’ lives with no one to blame but his own self-imposed workload. 

 

His life isn’t what he’d thought it would be at this point, but he has Alan and Ellie. At this point, he honestly believes they love him, which is wild. For who he really is, which is wilder. Maybe forever, which is unfathomable. He’s always wanted forever with someone, but he’s grown accustomed to not getting it. 

 

It’s a little terrifying to think he might, but not half as terrifying as the thought of not having forever now that he’s had this much. With these two people, who’ve seen the best and worst of him… who kept him alive when he thought he was dead a half a dozen times over at least, and left him a phone number and forgave his not calling it for so long…

 

“Cake or presents?” Ellie asks him, when he finishes his dinner, and she sees something in the look on his face, reaches out to cup his cheek. “Whatever order you like, we’ve got both.”

 

“Presents. I need some time before I think I can handle cake.” He flashes her a smile, kisses the heel of her hand. 

 

They walk him into the living room and get him settled, before presenting him with the large, flat box. Silver paper, silver bow stuck to one corner. He removes the bow before starting on the paper, and Alan recovers it before it can drop off the couch, sticking it to the top of Ian’s head.

 

“What’s that for?”

 

“I don’t know, you just have to.” Alan shrugs. 

 

Ian turns to look at Ellie, and she shrugs, tries to maintain a look of innocent ‘what can you do’ despite her clear amusement.

 

“It’s just one of those rules.” She giggles. 

 

“How come this rule didn’t come up for either of you?”

 

“You didn’t bring sticky ribbon bows out to the dig site or we would have worn them.”

 

“This had better mean you’ll be unwrapping me later.”

 

“Your birthday and we get to unwrap something? How generous.” She purrs, leans on his shoulder and nuzzles at his cheek-- and of course Alan mirrors her when she does. 

 

“There is every chance we will be unwrapping you later.” He promises, one hand sliding under the box Ian holds, caressing his thigh a little too briefly for Ian’s liking. 

 

Well. Later.

 

For now, he does want his present. He gets the paper peeled back, the glossy white lid lifted, and there, nestled in crinkled silver tissue paper, is a black leather jacket. 

 

It is, he must admit, cooler than the one he’d lost on Isla Nublar.

 

He tries it on immediately. It fits like a dream. He does a little turn for the two of them and everything, Ellie grinning and clapping, Alan… Alan with that soft little smile, the kind of shy one. 

 

“What do you think?”

 

“It’s good. I mean… not that you didn’t look good in your old one, but… this one’s more… sexy.”

 

Ian bobs his eyebrows, making Alan snort and turn away a moment.

 

“Definitely more sexy.” Ellie stretches a leg out, her foot sliding up his calf, the good side. “You look good, Doctor Malcolm.”

 

“Please, please, doctors, there is enough of me to go around.” He winks over at her, before reaching out to tousle Alan’s hair. “Thank you. I love it.”

 

Alan rises, hands going to Ian’s waist. Ian still has that bow stuck to his hair, but Alan doesn’t for a moment look at him like he’s ridiculous, Alan just leans up and kisses him, warm and slow, just a hint of what might be coming to him, and by the time Ian has noticed Ellie’s foot is no longer caressing his leg, she’s sliding in to claim him for a kiss of her own. 

 

The two of them might just get a little carried away, passing him back and forth. He can’t say he minds.

 

“I’m going to-- oh, that’s, mm, yeah, that’s nice-- I’m going to wear this jacket every day if this is… oh, if this is, ahh, what I get for it…”

 

“I believe you will. You wore a leather jacket in the rainforest, why wouldn’t you wear it in eighty something degree heat?”

 

“Eighty’s not so bad.” He nods. “Could be ninety. Your turn to unwrap me?”

 

“We have one more thing for you. It’s not really a birthday present, but today’s as good a day as any-- Alan?”

 

“I’ve got it.”

 

Ian’s not sure when Alan could have gotten it, they’ve both been glued to him, but then their joined hands present the smallest black velvet box, and he has never been on the receiving end of this gesture. 

 

Maybe this is what it takes, to break the pattern of failures. Maybe he just needed to wait for someone to ask  _ him _ . Are they asking him? They have to be. He’s pretty sure he’d fall over if they didn’t each have an arm around him, and his hands are shaking a little as he takes the ring box from them. 

 

It’s his style. Silver, heavy and masculine, but detailed, celtic knots running around the band, meeting in an intricate heart… If he wore it, people wouldn’t ask questions, not if he switched up which hand, which finger, but he could…

 

“Ian… the first time we met, we had no idea you were something we’d been… missing, in our lives.” Ellie squeezes him. “I mean… everything always seemed… pretty complete. No one ever talks about finding a third partner as some big, life-changing thing. But you changed our lives.”

 

“For the better, I hope.” 

 

“ _ Ian _ .” Alan’s hold tightens as well, just a moment. And he looks so serious, so expectant, and he must know the answer is yes, of course it’s yes, to anything they’re asking… “You, uh… you looked at me. Us. Both of us, but you know. Also me. That was the first thing I noticed. You looked at both of us, and I felt… something. Confused, mostly.”

 

“Oh. I still like looking at you.”

 

“Yeah. I’m still mostly confused.”

 

“What we’re trying to say, Ian… we’re a little more complete with you. And you’re the reason this house feels like a home-- and not because you’re the reason there’s not always dust everywhere, before you ask. Not even because you’re the reason it smells like dinner when we get in late at night, you… You just… you make it more than a place to go to between digs. You make it a place we want to be, because you’re here, and we spend all week missing how it feels to have you in our bed. And maybe there’s no making it official, but… we want to keep you.”

 

“We want to marry you.” Alan adds. “I mean… we want to be married to you. Or, if we could, that’s what we’d do, in a heartbeat. If you want that.”

 

“I’m yours.” He says, to both of them, hardly knows where to start when it comes to kissing them both silly. “I’m, yes, I’m yours. The long haul, as much of me as you can stand. I might test your limits on that--”

 

“You won’t.”

 

“Yes.” He sighs. 

 

Alan takes his hand, Ellie takes the ring, and Ian, Ian just watches, stunned, as it slides onto his finger like it belongs there. 

 

It does belong there. Just like he belongs here.

 

“Okay, now…  _ now _ it must be time to unwrap me.” He says. There’s a little too much emotion in his voice to play it off as very cool.

 

Ellie laughs anyway. Alan answers the question of who Ian is kissing first.  _ Emphatically _ . 

 

It’s Ellie who steers them-- to the mudroom first, to hang the new jacket up in the coat closet, and then back to the bedroom. He’s pretty sure he has a hickey before they get through the door, isn’t sure whether he hopes his shirt collar will cover it tomorrow or if he hopes it won’t.

 

They strip him, lay him out on the bed, and he melts into the mattress under their lips, their hands. They manage to communicate to each other in looks while he floats on the pleasure of being theirs, and he’s surprised by the scent of the massage oil, eyes fluttering open to look up at them.

 

“We’re taking extra special care of you tonight…” Ellie promises, her voice low and sweet, and she kneels at his side, he slings an arm across her lap, wraps a hand around her hip. Has to drop his hold and relax when she starts in at his shoulders, but he can hardly complain. 

 

The massage oil smells like strawberries and vanilla, Ellie had chosen it, and where she’d found it, Ian doesn’t know, but he’d love to go there with her and pick out some things. It’s a little cloyingly sweet, compared to the bottle they keep out in the RV at the dig site, the stuff that’s purely for easing sore muscles and working out kinks after a long day bent over an excavation in progress. Ian’s come to like it, though, and while Ellie works on his shoulders, The heels of Alan’s hands press in at his hips.

 

Ian groans, briefly reaches to run his fingers through Alan’s hair again,before he makes himself just relax. Ellie is working her way down each arm, Alan is starting on Ian’s good leg, kneading hard where he’s tired, where he’s maybe spent today favoring the bad one too much. Something about the weather, but he’s still getting the hang of how the human barometer thing works.

 

When Ellie moves to his other arm, Alan moves to his bad leg, bending over him to lay a kiss to the worst of the scarring before he spreads the oil around. He’s gentler, but he knows what Ian needs, what Ian can take. Knows how to handle him on a bad day so that he can make it all a little better. 

 

They both have such good hands, strong and clever and warm, and just rough  _ enough _ from their field work… it’s so easy to let those hands do whatever they want to him. 

 

“ _ Good _ …” Ellie sighs, having worked her way back up to his shoulder, and she guides him through testing his range of motion a little. “You  _ needed _ this… Am I going to have to start showing up at the university to lecture you on posture, Doctor Malcolm?”

 

“Oh, please do…” He sighs. “Please do…”

 

“We could, you know.” Alan says, his hands sliding up higher, down again, back up. “The site doesn’t need us full-time. Not now that everyone knows what they’re doing, they’d call us if there was more… we’ve got a lot discovered already, we’d be there in a heartbeat if there was another big find, but we don’t need to be all hands on deck all week.”

 

“Who-- who are you, and what have you done with Alan?”

 

“I’m just saying… a large part of the fossil bed could be carved and prepped for transport, and I could finish the job at any properly equipped facility. Museum… university. A lot of excavation happens indoors at the location where the fossils will be studied or displayed-- it’s safer to move them that way. We would still have our site and we’d still be involved there, but… we could split our time a little differently. A few more nights at home… I mean, now that we’re… Now that it’s-- well, not official, but…”

 

“Alan, I couldn’t ask you to--”

 

“And you’re not. I’m considering it. The most important part of the job, the real delicate work, that’s what I’d be doing, just… indoors. Closer to home. That’s if our sponsor will agree to a partnership with a university… It would be worth trying.”

 

“I love you for trying. I love you for  _ thinking _ about trying.” Ian groans. “Oh, fuck me, but I love you for… for just thinking…”

 

Alan hums, toweling his hands off, and Ian’s displayed some vague interest throughout, but oh… now? Now, with Ellie’s hands working lower, from his chest down to knead his abs, and Alan already working him harder. 

 

“What was that, Ian?”

 

“I love you? Or fuck me?”

 

“I find they’re best taken together.”

 

“Well, uh, I’m yours, honey, both ways.”

 

Ellie puts the bottle of massage oil away, drops her dress and comes back with the tube of lube, and Ian is  _ ready _ , is beyond ready, but he is not remotely prepared for the two of them, the way they open him up  _ together _ .

 

It’s more than he strictly needs for prep, it’s about the joy of fingering him at that point, he’s good to go, but the two of them are toying with him, and he feels so lax, so good, all he can do is let them.

 

They roll him onto his side, and Alan slides a leg between his, slides up into him, and Ellie fits hserself against his front, slides her leg in alongside Alan’s and takes Ian into her, and he kisses her hungrily, feels the soft, slick  _ heat _ as she surrounds him and Alan fills him, as they roll their hips in a rhythm together that takes him right along… Her mouth under his, Alan’s teeth worrying gently at his shoulder, the driving force of the two of them moving him, which is exactly how he likes it, and so lucky for him that it’s just how they like it… One arm around her waist, one reaching back, hand on Alan’s ass, just holding on and letting them drive, but even when he’s content to leave the driving to them, he’s attentive, tactile, present.

 

“You could… you could have me like this… every night you’re home…” He suggests. 

 

“Careful what you wish for…” Alan chuckles in his ear. “What will you do when we take full time university positions?”

 

“Can’t wait to find out…”

 

Ellie laughs, bites at Ian’s lip and tugs, and his attention rolls back to her, to kissing her deeply until Alan changes the rhythm and demands Ian’s focus. They manage to pass him back and forth even when they’ve both got him and he’s living for the way they touch him, for the grunts and moans he gets in stereo. He’s living for  _ them _ , always the two of them, the way it feels to be  _ theirs _ . For Alan gently kissing over every spot he’s bitten at and Ellie leaving new marks at his throat, for how possessive their hands feel spread out over his chest or gripping tight at his hip and for how safe it feels to think they possess him like this.

 

The warmth of it draws out for ages, the sweetness of it, as the pleasure comes in waves over his whole body, waves that spread from everywhere they both touch him, and they want him, they want him forever, he’s  _ theirs _ . 

 

He doesn’t let himself come until he’s sure Ellie has, and then there’s no holding back, Alan keeping up that steady rhythm as Ian wails, as he comes, as he’s so sensitive and yet he loves this, too, that extra moment Alan takes before finishing, that pushes him past what he might have thought he needed…

 

And after, when they clean him up, when they kiss him, when they gently minister to bite marks… he lives for after. He relaxes against Alan, cuddles back into him and reaches out, his hand tracing over the curves of Ellie’s body while Alan strokes at his chest, while Ellie caresses his arm, Alan’s knee. 

 

“You’ve still got cake.” She shifts closer, cuddling in against his chest, and Alan plays with her hair, encouraging her to stay there a moment. 

 

“We could bring the cake back here.” Alan says. Squeezes Ian a little tighter for just a moment. 

 

“All this and cake in bed? I should have a birthday every year.”


End file.
